MacGyver had just finished eating the last of his hamburger, when he got that strange, tingling feeling in the back of his neck that told him something was amiss. Craning his neck, he looked out the back window and spotted a pair of headlights approaching fast. "Uh, guys," he said, turning to the men in the front seat.
"I see them," Mike said with a frown.
Garrett turned around to look. "Guest the T-Boyz were more ticked off than I thought."
"Sorry," MacGyver said glumly, feeling guilty about causing trouble for his friends.
"Not your fault, MacGyver," Garrett said dismissively. "They would have gone after you even if you hadn't been a smartass."
"Yeah," Mike agreed with a grin. "I'm sure they're just as annoyed with us for interrupting their evening's entertainment."
"They're catching up," Garrett warned. "Can't this heap go any faster?"
"I've got my foot on the floor already," Mike replied tersely.
"Look out!" Garrett yelled, spotting a car entering the intersection they were approaching.
"Hang on!" Mike shouted. MacGyver and Garrett braced themselves as he turned the wheel sharply and slammed on the brakes. The car skidded and spun around, crashing sideways into a parked pickup truck.
"You guys all right?" Mike asked breathlessly.
"I'm fine," Garrett replied. "Mac?"
"Just peachy," MacGyver replied with a grimace as he picked himself up off of the floor. "You really need some seat belts back here."
Mike turned the key, trying to restart the car, but it turned over once then sputtered and died, refusing all further efforts to rouse it to life.
"Uh-oh," Garrett said. "We're gonna have some company." He pointed out the front window, which now faced in the opposite direction, at the approaching vehicles. "I think we'd better..."
"Get the hell out of here," Mike finished as he pulled the trunk release. The driver's side of the car was pressed against the parked pickup that they had hit, so the three men scrambled out of the passenger side doors. Mike detoured to the trunk of his car before following Garrett and MacGyver as they ducked behind the truck.
"Where did that come from?" Garrett asked, indicating the shotgun and box of shells that Mike was carrying.
"I have a cabin in the mountains and I bring this along to scare away the bears. It's only birdshot, but it makes a lot of noise."
"Somehow I don't think that noise is going to scare these guys away," Garrett said.
"It's better than nothing," Mike shrugged. "I'm just glad that I forgot to put it away after I went up there last week."
"No offense, but I'd rather have a telephone," MacGyver said.
"Here they come," Garrett said as the two pursuing vehicles squealed to a stop next to their damaged car. The doors opened and the gang members poured out, quickly taking positions behind their cars.
"I count nine of them," Mike said grimly.
"Most of them are carrying automatic weapons, too," MacGyver added, echoing Mike's dark tone.
"Man, I hope someone called the cops," Garrett whispered.
Deke's voice suddenly rang out. "Hey, funny man. You and your pals better come on out of there."
"Yeah, right," Garrett snorted sarcastically. "So they can blast us to kingdom come."
"Last chance," Deke called, followed by the ominous sound of weapons being loaded.
"Keep your heads down guys," Mike warned.
A minute later, the night exploded with gunfire, bullets smashing into the cars in front of them and the buildings behind them.
"Damn!" Garrett cursed as he brushed broken glass from his clothing. At the first pause in the shooting, Mike popped up briefly from behind the truck and fired his shotgun. The gang members, who had been standing brazenly in full view, scattered and dove for cover.
"That'll give them something to think about," Garrett said with a tight smile. "I don't think they were expecting a fight."
The next volley of gunfire struck, and MacGyver stayed down, trying to think of some way out of this standoff. There was nothing but a brick wall behind them and only a couple of parked cars next to the truck that was providing them cover. Beyond that was only open space, which was far too exposed to the large number of bullets being fired in their direction. On a scale of one to ten, his chances of getting out of this with all of his body parts intact looked to be about negative four.
"Uh-oh. They're spreading out," Mike said after chancing a quick peek during a lull in the shooting.
"They're probably going to try to close in around us," MacGyver determined. "They know they have us outnumbered."
"And out-gunned," added Garrett.
"Maybe I can discourage them a bit," Mike said as he fired another shot, this time off to one side, where the thugs were attempting to circle them. A howl of pain was the response as one of the men fell to the ground clutching his backside.
"I guess birdshot in the ass stings a little," Garrett chuckled.
MacGyver grinned. "Oh yeah."
The gunfire resumed again, turning Mike's car into even more Swiss cheese as they ducked lower behind their shelter. Over the loud barrage, MacGyver suddenly heard the welcome sound of approaching sirens. "You hear that?" he asked his companions, as Mike loosed another blast from his shotgun.
Garrett tilted his head to the side, listening, then broke out in a wide smile. "I do believe the cavalry is coming."
The T-Boyz seemed to have heard it as well, since the shooting stopped abruptly and they began racing back to their vehicles. The police arrived from both directions simultaneously, effectively blocking their retreat, and faced with superior number of police officers, they reluctantly surrendered.
"All right!" Garrett high-fived Mike just as several officers stepped into view, pointing guns at them.
"Drop your weapons! Now!" one of the officers barked at them.
"Hey, chill man," Garrett said soothingly as he raised his hands in the air. "We're the good guys."
"We'll see about that, " the cop said humorlessly. "Up!" He waved his hand, indicating that they should stand. As soon as they got to their feet, the officers converged on them, shoving them against the truck as they searched for weapons.
"Hey, take it easy!" Garrett demanded when he heard MacGyver groan after being pushed down over the hood of the truck. "He's hurt." The officer ignored him as they handcuffed the three men and squeezed them into the back seat of the cruiser for the ride to the police station.
"Are we having fun yet?" MacGyver asked as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore all the aches and pains that were clamoring for his attention.
"How am I going to explain this to my insurance company?" Mike asked, as he gazed forlornly through the window of the police car as it drove past his bullet-ridden car.
"Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll total that junker," Garrett retorted.
"Hey," Mike protested. "That car is a classic."
"A classic *what*?" Garrett shot back.
"They don't make them like that anymore," Mike said in an offended tone. "Right MacGyver?"
Without opening his eyes, MacGyver said, "Leave me out of this. I'm still trying to figure out how to tell my own insurance company that my jeep is now a four-wheel-drive pancake."
Garrett stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing -- a deep, hearty sound that soon had MacGyver and Mike joining in.
"You guys on drugs or something?" The cop in the passenger seat turned and gave his laughing prisoners a baleful glare.
They looked at each other for a moment, then laughed even harder.
"No," Mike finally gasped. "We're just happy to be breathing."
"Yeah," Garrett agreed. "Before you guys showed up, we were about to be blown into tiny little pieces by that bunch of pissed-off gangbangers."
"So what did you do to get them so mad at you?" the cop asked skeptically.
Garrett grinned and nodded toward MacGyver. "He tried to sell them Girl Scout cookies."
"It was encyclopedias," MacGyver said with a smile.
"Oh yeah," Garrett shrugged. "Guess they weren't interested in educational materials."
The officer rolled his eyes and pointed his finger at his head, making small circles. His partner nodded and decided that he was going to recommend his prisoners for a psychological evaluation, since they were obviously a few cards short of a full deck.
**********
Sam opened one eye and gazed sleepily at the glowing red numbers on his clock radio. He started to wonder why he had awakened at five a.m., especially since he had been out checking restaurants with Willis until after two, when the shrill chirping of his cell phone sounded close to his ear.
"H'lo," he answered, muffling a yawn.
"Sam... it's Pete," the familiar voice of Pete Thornton stated from the other end of the phone.
Sam sat up, instantly awake. From the subdued tone of his voice and the early hour, he knew that Pete wasn't calling him with good news. "What is it?" he asked hoarsely, clutching the phone in a white-knuckled grip.
"We found Mac's jeep," Pete said without preamble.
"Where?"
"One of our teams was checking on some properties that Phoenix owns, and they found his jeep near one of the buildings."
"What else?" Sam asked tersely.
"Sam... the building where they found it collapsed during the quake. The jeep was crushed under some debris."
"Was he...?"
"He wasn't in the jeep," Pete added quickly. "There wasn't any sign of him, but if he was inside the building..." Pete took a ragged breath, unable to finish.
"Where is it?" Sam demanded softly.
"Sam..."
"I have to see," Sam interrupted. "Please."
"I know," Pete sighed resignedly. "But will you at least wait for the rest of us? I haven't called Willis yet and I still need to get a search team coordinated. Okay?"
"Okay," Sam agreed after a moment's hesitation. He knew Pete was right, but he could hardly bear the thought of waiting any longer when his father was in trouble.
"I'll call you as soon as everything's arranged."
"Mr. Thornton...," Sam began. "He's all right. I know he is."
"Hang in there, Sam. We'll find him," Pete said sincerely.
Sam switched off the phone and slowly uncurled his fingers from their death-grip on the device.
**********
The squad car pulled up behind the police station and MacGyver, Garrett and Mike were herded inside to be booked. The inside of the station was gray; the walls were gray, the floors were gray, and even the ceiling, which had once been white, was now a dingy shade of gray from years of cigarette smoke and neglect. The place was also in chaos.
"Geez, what a zoo," Mike said as he took in the commotion around them.
"Must be all the looting," Garrett suggested.
The two officers escorted them to a counter, where their handcuffs were removed and they were quickly fingerprinted.
"Empty your pockets," the female officer behind the desk ordered brusquely.
Garrett and Mike took out their wallets, keys, and spare change and placed them on the counter. MacGyver reached for his wallet only to find that his back pocket was gone, torn off sometime during his ordeal under the building. His Swiss army knife had already been taken by the police officers when they searched him, and all that he had left was a handful of change, his keys, a few paper clips and some string.
"No ID?" The woman looked at MacGyver sternly.
"I lost it," MacGyver shrugged and showed her his missing pocket.
"Name?"
"MacGyver."
"First name?" She looked at him expectantly, frowning when he didn't immediately answer.
MacGyver waited until Mike and Garrett had been escorted away before he said, in a low voice, "Angus." The officer scrawled his name into the proper spot on the form then nodded to the officer standing behind him, who took MacGyver's arm and led him through the maze-like station into a crowded cell, where Mike and Garrett were waiting.
"Hey, man," Garrett said to the officer. "Can't you see that he needs a doctor?" He gestured angrily toward MacGyver, who was swaying unsteadily on his feet.
The cop gave MacGyver a hard look then shoved him into the cell. "Looks drunk to me."
Garrett caught MacGyver before he fell down. "What about our phone calls?"
"You'll get your turn." He locked the cell door and walked away, ignoring the jeers and catcalls of the other prisoners.
"Looks like we get to enjoy the hospitality of the police department for awhile," Mike sighed.
Garrett drew himself to his full six-foot-six and glared menacingly at the group of men who currently occupied the hard bench along one wall of the cell. They took one look at the tall, muscular man and quickly scurried to the other side of the cell.
"Works every time." Garrett grinned broadly and gestured to Mike and MacGyver to sit. "Have a seat."
"Thanks, big guy," Mike said as he and MacGyver sank gratefully onto the bench.
"What are you so happy about?" Garrett asked MacGyver, who was leaning against the wall, smiling contentedly. "We *are* in jail, you know."
"This place is paradise compared to where I've spent the last couple of days," MacGyver replied sleepily.
Garrett grunted as he joined his friends on the bench. "The sooner we can get out of this 'paradise', the better I'll like it."
It was nearly four hours later when Garrett nudged him awake. "What?" MacGyver said with a yawn.
"Time for our phone calls," Garrett said, indicating the police officer waiting impatiently by the cell door.
"One at a time," the officer said when the three men approached the door.
"You go first, Mac," Mike offered.
"Yeah, you need to get out of here more than we do," Garrett said.
"Thanks," MacGyver told them as the officer escorted him to a phone. He dialed Pete's number, sighing when there was no answer. "Nobody home," he said to the cop as he broke the connection.
The officer looked at his watch and frowned. "Okay, one more... but you'd better make it count."
MacGyver nodded, his mind racing over the possibilities. Pete and Sam were probably out looking for him, something that hadn't occurred to him earlier, so it would have to be someone else, someone with enough clout to get him out of there. He finally decided on the best choice, and dialed what he hoped was the correct number. The phone rang several times and MacGyver felt his hopes sinking when a harried voice finally answered. "Fourteenth precinct. How can I help you?"
"Lieutenant Kate Murphy, please," he politely requested.
"She hasn't arrived yet. Can I take a message?"
"Yes," MacGyver replied. "Tell her that MacGyver called, and that I'm at the 53rd precinct and I need to see her as soon as possible."
"Will that be all?"
"Yes, thank you." He hung up and was escorted back to the cell. Kate was a morning person and he knew that she was usually in her office early on most workdays, so with any luck, she would get his message soon. Unless the earthquake had altered her normal schedule. MacGyver shook his head to banish that thought. His situation was depressing enough without manufacturing something else to worry about. Stifling a yawn, MacGyver returned to his seat and settled himself back against the wall and was soon sound asleep.
**********
"Holy shit!" Willis exclaimed when he saw the Waller Building... or what was left of it. Pete turned to him, stunned at hearing the good-natured scientist curse with such vehemence. In all the years he had known him, Pete couldn't remember hearing Willis utter anything stronger than "oh darn", so he knew the scene had to be pretty awful to shock him into using such harsh language.
Sam, on the other hand, barely reacted. "It's gone," he whispered as he stared at the pile of bricks and concrete.
"Mr. Thornton!" A short, stocky man wearing a hard hat approached the small group as they climbed out of their car.
"Matthews," Pete greeted the man with a firm handshake.
"We've started setting up the equipment around the perimeter," Matthews began. "My guys are dropping the sound probes anyplace they find a nice, deep opening and the search dogs will be here any minute." He paused, then said more quietly, "If anyone's under there... well, it doesn't look too good."
"If anyone could survive *that*," Willis gestured toward the grim scene. "... it's MacGyver."
"What about the jeep?" Pete asked.
"Over here," Matthews said, pointing toward one side of the ruined building. Pete, Willis and Sam followed as he led them to the spot where the jeep sat, crushed under a pile of debris.
Sam stood, rigid with tension, and stared numbly at what had once been his father's vehicle. "No," he said softly.
Willis cast a worried glance at the young man, concerned by the sudden pallor of his face. "Sam, why don't we go wait in the car?" he suggested quietly. "We'll only be in the way out here."
"He's not in there, " Sam said, his voice breaking as he tore his gaze away from the destruction and focused on Willis. "I know he isn't."
"Come on." Willis led Sam to the car, quietly brushing away the tears that suddenly filled his own eyes.
Pete listened to them, trying valiantly to rein in his own emotions. It broke his heart that Sam was so upset and he was glad that, in this one case, he couldn't see the wreckage that had brought such distress to both of his friends. He took a deep breath, then turned his attention back to Matthews, who was detailing the search efforts for him. Pete fervently hoped that it didn't turn from a search and rescue mission to a body recovery.
**********
"MacGyver!" The sound of his name being spoken sharply jolted MacGyver from his slumber and he sat up with a start, scanning the area for the source of the interruption. A slow grin spread across his face when he spied Kate Murphy staring at him through the bars.
"'Bout time you got here, Kate," MacGyver drawled.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Kate put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "And why do you look like an ad for laundry detergent?"
Garrett and Mike chuckled next him as MacGyver cringed under Kate's scrutiny.
"Well?" she said impatiently.
Mike and Garrett looked at each other, then at Kate, and said simultaneously, "A building fell on him."
"What?!" Kate said incredulously as she looked from them to MacGyver.
"Yeah," Garrett said, warming to his topic. "But that was before he got beat up by the gang for trying to sell Girl Scout cookies on their turf."
"Encyclopedias," MacGyver corrected automatically.
"Don't forget the car chase and the shoot out," Mike added.
"MacGyver?!"
"Thanks a lot, guys," MacGyver said, tossing them a dirty look as he climbed to his feet and walked over to Kate.
"Who's the comedy act?" Kate asked him, nodding toward Garrett and Mike.
"This is Garrett Ross and Michael Kearns." MacGyver gestured to each of them in turn. "They do a lot of work with the Challenger's Club."
"Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant," Garrett said with a smile.
"They, uh, gave me a lift."
Garrett snorted. "Rescued your ass is more like it." Turning to Kate, he said, "Mac here was in the process of getting his butt kicked by some of the T-Boyz when we came along."
Kate laughed and shook her head. "Mac, I swear you are a magnet for trouble."
MacGyver shrugged sheepishly and scuffed his toe on the floor.
Taking pity on him, Kate sighed and gestured to the sergeant seated at the end of the hall to open the door. "Okay, guys. Come on out here. We need room for the real bad guys."
"Thanks, Kate," MacGyver said as he, Garrett and Mike gratefully left the crowded holding cell.
"Don't thank me yet," Kate warned. "First stop after we get you signed out is the hospital."
"Kate..." MacGyver groaned, while Garrett and Mike snickered behind him.
"Don't even think about it, Mac," Kate said sternly. "Pete and Sam will have my hide if I don't take good care of you."
"Have you talked to them?" MacGyver asked, brightening at the prospect of seeing them again.
"Not since Pete called me two days ago looking for you," Kate said with a shake of her head. "He sounded pretty worried."
"Damn," MacGyver said, chagrined at causing them to worry.
"I tried calling before I came down here, but he and Sam were both out -- probably looking for you."
"Kate, can you just take me home?"
"No way, Mac..."
"I promise I'll go see the doctor -- after I see Sam and Pete, okay? Please?"
Kate was about to argue, but gave in when she saw the pleading look on his face. "Oh, all right," she said with an exasperated sigh. "But I'll be checking in with them to make sure you do."
"Okay," MacGyver grinned.
"Damned puppy dog eyes," Kate muttered to herself as she signed the paperwork to release the three men. "You two need a ride?" she asked Mike and Garrett when she had finished.
"Nah, we'll take a cab, thanks," Garrett said. "Come on, Mike. We'd better go check out what's left of your car."
"You had to remind me, didn't you?" Mike groaned as he slouched after his big friend.
"What's wrong with his car?" Kate asked MacGyver as they walked toward her unmarked police sedan.
"It's full of bullet holes," MacGyver replied casually.
She arched an eyebrow skeptically. "I think you'd better tell me the whole story."
And he did. By the time they pulled up in front of his apartment, Kate was again shaking her head in disbelief. "Assassins, earthquakes and gang shootouts? All in the same week?"
"In less than three days, actually," MacGyver corrected.
"Smartass," Kate growled at him.
"Hey, you asked for the whole story," MacGyver protested.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Only you, Mac."
"Yeah, but that's why you like me." He gave her a lopsided grin.
"Don't push your luck, tough guy," she grumbled as MacGyver eased himself out of the car.
"Thanks, Kate."
"Yeah, yeah. You take care of yourself, okay? I'm going to be checking up on you."
"Yes, ma'am." He gave her a sloppy salute, then turned and wearily climbed the stairs. He let himself into his apartment and headed directly for the kitchen, not thinking to wonder why the place showed no signs of having suffered through an earthquake. After pouring himself a big glass of orange juice, MacGyver picked up the phone and dialed both Sam and Pete's numbers, frowning when he got no answer at either place. He left a brief message on their answering machines then made a beeline for the bathroom, where he peeled off his filthy clothes and stepped eagerly into the shower.
The hot spray felt wonderful and he stood under it blissfully until it started to turn cold. Reluctantly, he switched the water off and wrapped himself in a towel, pausing only long enough to put on a pair of sweat pants before he crawled into bed. Feeling better than he had in days, MacGyver sank immediately into a deep and much-needed sleep.
**********
Sam parked his motorcycle and looked up at the darkened windows of his father's apartment. They hadn't found him -- not yet, anyway. After a whole day's work, the only evidence they had that MacGyver had been anywhere near the Waller Building was his flattened jeep. Sam tried to look at the positive side -- they hadn't found his body, either -- but it didn't make him feel any better. Pete and Willis tried to be encouraging, but Sam knew they were as afraid as he was of what they would find under that building. He had left Pete's house intending to go straight home, but found himself inexplicably drawn to his father's place instead. He stared up at the building again then decided he might as well stay there, as he had the previous night.
Sam switched on the light and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter as he entered the apartment. He started to remove his jacket then froze when he spotted the empty glass on the counter next to the telephone. It hadn't been there when he left that morning and, to his knowledge, no one else had been in the apartment. Instantly alert, Sam walked softly toward the bedroom, grabbing MacGyver's hockey stick from its spot next to the bookshelf as he passed. Gripping the stick tightly, he edged toward the half-open bedroom door. In one swift move, Sam rushed through the door and clicked on the light, ready to bash any intruder who might be lurking in the dark.
Instead of an intruder, though, he found his father lying in bed, mumbling softly in his sleep. Sam gaped at the sight, the hockey stick clattering noisily to the wooden floor as it slipped, forgotten, from his fingers.
The noise woke MacGyver and he opened his eyes, squinting against the light. "Sam?"
"Dad!" Sam rushed to his father. "Where have you been? Are you all right?" The words tumbled out in a rush as he gripped MacGyver in a fierce hug.
"Ow! Take it easy," MacGyver said with a gasp as his broken ribs reminded him of their presence.
"What's wrong?" Worry lines creased his forehead as Sam eyed his father critically, taking note of the bruises and scratches that decorated his face and torso.
MacGyver shrugged. "Just a couple of cracked ribs."
"Just?" Sam folded his arms and scowled at him.
"Geez, you're as bad as Murphy," MacGyver grumbled.
"Kate Murphy?"
"Yeah, she drove me home from the police station."
"What were you doing in the police station?"
MacGyver grimaced as he realized his mistake. "It's a long story."
"It usually is," Sam said with a smile. He was about to press for more details of this "long story" when he was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.
"Saved by the bell," MacGyver whispered to himself as Sam picked up the extension on the night stand.
"It's Mr. Thornton," Sam said, holding the phone out to him.
"Hey Pete," MacGyver said, then held the phone away from his ear as Pete barraged him with questions.
"Pete... Pete... Pete!" He finally managed to interrupt his friend's tirade. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning, okay?"
The older man finally agreed, reluctantly, and MacGyver hung up with a smile. "He's going to call Willis and let him know that I'm still breathing."
"Good," Sam said as he started rummaging through the dresser drawers.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting you some clothes so we can go to the hospital."
"I'm fine, Sam."
"No, you're not," Sam stated firmly.
MacGyver opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. He had lost this particular argument twice already and didn't feel like trying it a third time. Besides, his ribs *did* hurt a lot and he knew that Sam was too stubborn to give up -- a trait he had inherited from both of his parents. A smile twitched on his lips as his son fussed over him.
"What?" Sam asked when he saw the look on MacGyver's face.
"Nothing," MacGyver shrugged. "Just glad to be home."
"I'm glad too," Sam said with a smile. "You really scared the crap out of us this time, you know. After we found your jeep..." Sam shook his head. "We thought you were in that building that collapsed."
"Um, actually, I *was* inside the building when the quake hit," MacGyver said nonchalantly. "With Murdoc."
"No way!" Sam stared at him in disbelief. "How did you get out?"
MacGyver held out his damaged hands and grinned. "Lots of digging."
"Geez, Dad," Sam chastised him. "You're going to give me gray hair."
"Sorry."
"What about Murdoc?"
MacGyver grimaced. "He got buried under the building again."
Sam held up a flannel shirt. "You can tell me about it on the way to the hospital."
"You really don't want to know," MacGyver said as he reluctantly put the shirt on.
"Probably not," Sam agreed. "But I want to hear it anyway."
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," MacGyver said as he followed his son out the door.
**********
Sam entered the apartment and shut the door behind him softly, not wanting to wake his father. He placed the grocery bag he was carrying on the counter and began to quietly put the items away. It had been late when they had returned from the hospital the previous night and Sam had decided to stay over again. When he had gotten up that morning, he had found a distinct lack of anything edible -- he didn't count tofu and protein shakes as food -- in the house, so he had made a quick trip to the store. Grinning at what his father would have to say about his choice of breakfast food, he started a pot of coffee brewing then opened a package of Pop-Tarts and dropped them into the toaster.
Sam had just started to pour himself a cup of coffee when the door to the apartment suddenly opened. Startled, he turned around to see MacGyver coming through the door with a grocery bag of his own.
"Dad!" Sam said with a frown. "You're supposed to be resting. Doctor's orders, remember?"
MacGyver shrugged and sent a guilty smile in Sam's direction. "Pete called after you left. He and Willis are coming by in a while, so I figured I'd go get some food."
"Go sit down," Sam ordered as he reached for the bag. "I'll take care of this."
"I'll do it," MacGyver insisted as he pulled the bag out of Sam's reach.
Sam followed him into the kitchen, peering curiously into the bag after MacGyver had set it on the counter. "Twinkies?" Sam's eyebrows arched in surprise as he pulled out the box. "These aren't very good for you."
"Harry used to give me these when I was a kid," MacGyver said with a embarrassed shrug. "I was feeling nostalgic."
"Lame excuse, Dad," Sam shook his head and grinned. "Really lame."
"So sue me," MacGyver said. "Now give 'em back."
"Come and get them," Sam retorted, his eyes twinkling with merriment as he waved the box in the air.
MacGyver reached for the box, but Sam ducked away from him, dancing around the apartment. "Getting slow, Dad," he taunted.
"I'll show you slow," MacGyver growled as he raced after Sam with surprising speed, considering his sprained ankle.
Sam let out a yell as his father nearly caught him. They were still laughing and chasing around the apartment when the door burst open and Pete and Willis rushed, wide-eyed, into the living room. Startled by their arrival, MacGyver and Sam stopped in their tracks, relaxing once they saw who it was.
"Hey Willis, Pete. Come on in," MacGyver greeted them with a smile.
"Mac? What's going on? It sounded like you were being attacked in here," Pete said worriedly.
"We're fine, Pete," MacGyver replied. "I'm just trying to rescue my Twinkies."
Willis laughed as Sam waved the box in the air playfully.
"Twinkies?" Pete said dubiously as a smile creased his face. "In this house?"
"He claims he's feeling nostalgic," Sam said, rolling his eyes.
"Give me a break," MacGyver said with mock offense. "I'm wounded over here."
"You can't be feeling too bad if you can chase after those Twinkies," Pete observed.
"I give up." MacGyver threw his hands up in surrender, then winced at the twinge in his ribs that the action caused.
Recognizing the flash of pain in his father's face, Sam frowned and took him by the arm. "Sit," he directed. "Before you hurt yourself."
"Yeah, Mac," Willis agreed before MacGyver could argue. "You do look a little rough around the edges."
"Okay, okay. I know when I'm outnumbered," MacGyver admitted as he sat down on the sofa.
After joining him on the couch, Pete reached over and took MacGyver's hand, frowning at the bandage he encountered. "Are you really okay, Mac?"
"I've had worse," MacGyver said reassuringly. "But I certainly wouldn't want to do it again."
"What exactly happened, anyway?" Willis asked.
MacGyver gave him a pained smile as he launched into the tale of how he had spent the past few days.
"I can't believe you got through all of that in one piece," Willis said in amazement when MacGyver had finished his story.
"MacGyver luck strikes again," Pete agreed. "And I'm glad it did."
"So am I," MacGyver smiled.
"I wonder if that's finally the last of Murdoc?" Willis said.
"Last I heard, there was still no sign of a body," Pete said.
"What else is new?" MacGyver said disgustedly.
Attempting to lighten the mood, Sam stood and asked, "Anyone want a turkey sandwich? I'm starving."
"Sure," said Willis. "I'll give you hand."
"I guess you'll be looking for a new jeep," Pete said to MacGyver while Willis and Sam worked in the kitchen. "Considering the condition yours is in."
"Flat as a pancake," MacGyver said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, but it's a good excuse for getting a new one," Pete grinned.
"Here, Mr. Thornton," Sam said as he put a plate on the coffee table in front of Pete.
"Thanks, Sam."
Sam started to sit, then jumped back up and headed for the kitchen. "I almost forgot... I rented a video."
"What did you get?" Willis asked as Sam popped the cassette into the VCR.
"Watch," Sam said with a sly smile.
As the movie began, Pete suddenly sat up and groaned. "Sam, you didn't."
"Yeah, he did," MacGyver said, chuckling as the opening scenes of "Earthquake" played across the screen.
"I thought it suited the occasion," Sam said innocently.
MacGyver threw a sofa cushion at him. "Not funny, Junior."
As they settled in to watch the Irwin Allen classic, Willis asked, "Is there any word on Phelps yet?"
"Markham said they found his car wrecked about a half-mile from Phoenix headquarters, but there was no sign of him anywhere," Pete said.
"I wonder where he is?" Sam asked.
**********
The beeping and humming was getting really annoying and Phelps reluctantly opened his eyes. He was lying in a darkened room full of electronic equipment -- a hospital room. He started to sit up, then sank back into the pillow as the throbbing in his head intensified. What the hell was he doing in the hospital?
As he lay there wondering, the door to his room opened and a nurse came in carrying a basin. After she checked his chart, she set the basin down and began checking the monitors, finally noticing that he was awake when she checked his intravenous lines.
"You're awake," she stated. "It's about time."
"What am I doing here?" he demanded crossly.
"Don't take that tone with me, young man." She put her hands on her ample hips and frowned at him. She was a big, solid woman with iron gray hair and Phelps squirmed under the look she was giving him. "The doctor will be by to talk to you soon... after you've had your sponge bath." She smiled at him and picked up a sponge.
Phelps stared at her in horror. His cry of, "Get me out of here!!" echoed down the halls of the hospital.
**********
Finis